The Young Blood Herald
by Sasquatch097
Summary: Markao is an assassin, a prodigious artist of his trade and son of the infamous Blood Herald. The world he enters is rife with alliances and rivalries, secrets and lies and deceit that he must navigate. He soon discovers he's become the hunted. Please R&R
1. Markao01

**Chapter One**

Markao didn't move for a moment. Two moments. A minute. More. Time thinned and lost feeling, lost gravity. He watched as the blood spilled from the turian's gaping chest wound. The puncture, first a ballistic shot by a P37 Heavy, his pistol, and then by four punches. His fists drove in and out, in and out, in and out and the blood gushed and exploded and sprayed with each smack but it was only on the fourth that the figure stumbled back, reeled, and fell with a clumsy crash.

And that was it.

He'd been trained for that moment, he knew, but it did nothing for the burden slowly smothering his heart. His pistol fell from nerveless fingers as the rest of his body shifted to autopilot. Though his skin itched all over, like bugs teemed beneath it, he lacked the fortitude to raise a claw to scratch at it. Nothing mattered in that moment. Markao didn't move for a moment. Two moments. A minute. Or had it been more by now?

Deliriously his mind looped again and again over the memories. At first it only included the suicidal charge toward one another within the sewers beneath Illium, the kill shot and final blows standing starkly. But then it rewound further to when they stalked one another across four of the major metropolises, back to his near escape from Omega as the older turian blitzed him in the loading bay, back to his reckless chase across two mass effect relays, back to his childhood.

And as it all came back, he abruptly reentered his body, chills racking him. There was no one around to see or hear. He kneeled down over the steaming corpse, not avoiding the blood that soaked into the hem of his coat and through the fabric over his knee. Tenderly he touched foreheads with the turian one last time.

Before standing he relieved the old turian of his gear, his gun and headset, his datapad, and datachip (which he dug from his forearm).

He formulated some words in his mind, but didn't feel right speaking them.

_I thank you for my strength, but not for my protection. I'll always love you, father._


	2. Markao02

**Chapter Two**

"Sudo," the salarian assistant said, bowing respectfully. He approached the desk, datapad clutched firmly in hand.

"Ah, young Pelin. Good morning," Sudo smiled, slopping his mouth about slowly. It wasn't a pretty sight. His blind right eye twitched in its slot as slackened, browning skin shifted thinly around his lopsided mouth. The old salarian's face was gaunt, his hands gnarled and back bent with age.

"Good morning sir. You received the morning's schedule, correct?" Pelin tugged at his flowing tunic, checking the fastenings running over the side of his rib cage. Despite a new regimen of Yetoyl pills, his feelers still twitched nervously, even when they had no real cause. Pelin had worked with the old salarian for almost three years, never moving far from his sight, and still his fingers spasmed in his boss' presence.

"I did, and was going to send you a memo. The one right here," Sudo tapped his desk's glass panel surface to bring up the holo-keyboard, enlarging one of the slots on a short list of appointments. The event read: ID Management Meeting - Contact Dakylus. "Who is this?"

Pelin swallowed. "I don't know, sir. He contacted us, said his name was Dakylus. Oh, _young_ Dakylus he said, but it wasn't his name, so I didn't include it. He wouldn't give me a first name. I'm sorry, sir. I didn't think it was important."

"Calm, Pelin. You did well. If this is who I think, he's merely the offspring of an old friend. I wondered if I would live long enough to see this day."

Sudo's good eye glazed over as memories seemed to swirl somewhere behind them. Pelin waited patiently, making an effort to remain inconspicuous.

"Well, it is too early for reminiscing. Cancel all my other appointments. I need to prepare." Sudo continued over Pelin's spluttering, "contact Harikien, and Tullius. Harikien first. And don't fret about canceling those appointments, my boy. If those clients can afford to come all the way to Boldia, they can afford to wait another few days to be slotted into my time."

"At once, Sudo."

"And bring me some of that faux coffee. I've taken a liking to it."

"Of course." Pelin bowed and left.

Sudo eased back into his hoverchair, easing an arthritic hand over the controls. The chair responded smartly, whisking from behind the metallic desk and into the next room. "Lights," he croaked, and the dim panels lit the ceiling to reveal the hologram panel lining the far wall. Near to the door was a conference table, and between it and the screen was a holo circle. Sudo slid the chair into position at the center of the circle, tapping another control to begin the light matrix that began any call.

Within moments the screen exploded to light, a pair of wide blue eyes, salarian, darting over Sudo. With a grunt of surprise the figure stepped back into his circle, becoming fully visible.

"Director Sudo. How pleasant to hear from you," she said. She too was old, but still light and strong of body. In formal attire she was still quite dashing.

"The pleasure is always mine Harikien, though I'm no longer your director. How are you?"

Harikien groaned comically. "I'll spare you of the intricacies of old politics my friend. I'm sure you're delicate ear has picked up all the worthwhile news anyway. Nothing ever really changes here in Sur'Kesh."

"The Intel Corps Sub-Director must have something new," Sudo smirked. "An old salarian like myself can only be in so many places at once to hear so many things."

"I'll tell you about the Chancellors 'alternate' modes of income, information known only to five in all the galaxy, if you'll tell me one of your other contacts in Intel Corps!"

Sudo licked his lips slowly, rubbing his frantic blind eye. "If you're talking about his investments within the Terminus and Hades systems, then there are at least six of us 'in the loop'. Why news of a Councillor-funded slaver organization hasn't hit the mainstream media is what most intrigues me. It would seem the new Director quakes in his boots about confronting superiors. First the Vice-Chairman affair, now this. He waits and waits. But I digress. I've shaved down possibilities for another little bird of mine in IC to four for you. Satisfied darling?"

"No. Now I have to know."

Sudo merely smiled.

"Fine," Harikien said, "your assistant's message said your call would be business."

Someone coughed politely at the door of the conference room. "Pelin!" said Sudo, accepting the mug of steaming green coffee from his assistant. "Good timing. I've left my datapad in it's charger slot on my desk. Will you grab that for me?" In moments Pelin was back with Sudo's datapad. "Many thanks, m'boy. You may go." Pelin bowed and left.

"You trust that helper of yours a lot don't you? Letting him listen in to confidential conversations? Giving him access to information?"

"Pelin knows I have him watched closely," Sudo said, dismissing the hidden accusation with a wave. "Computer algorithms checked hourly correspond with his datachip, and ensure that code words he hears here in the office aren't repeated mentally. If he thinks something hard enough to write or say, his brain waves can be measured and matched for those codes. Pelin is inscrutable. I was even thinking about taking him out of the spy system without his knowledge."

"You were never that trusting of me."

"When Pelin recounts these stories to his grandchildren, he'll say the exact same thing. Now, I'm meeting with the son of of turian known as Dirk. I need every file you've got on the boy. Every scrap of information."

Harikien narrowed her eyes. "Dirk? You're going to have to be more specific."

"There is only one influential Dirk that's also _turian_. Are you saying you've never heard of him?"

"Not by that name. At least, I don't remember."

"Well let's jog it. Remember learning about the assassination of Vice Chancellor Leonite Periclus? Or the Execution of Utenbo Estate on the world Haleguese? Or the Dark Mission in the Unification War?"

"The Blood Herald?"

"That was a popular nickname for him, yes."

"You know his name?" Harikien gasped. "We've still got an office working on him, though he's gone dark in the last..."

"Seventeen years? Makes you wonder, huh?"

"Sudo, what do you know about him?"

Sudo chuckled, wiping drool absently from his chin. "That he's an old friend and contact, Harikien. Look, I'll tell you that he's retired if you'll get me those files on his son. That office can close now. I started it twenty-nine years ago to cover the fact that Dirk was running errands for me back then. They were never going to find much."

"Well, I'll check in the database, but I never heard of the Blood Herald having any known relatives. You say you're meeting with his son today? You do know what that means, right?"

"Better than anyone else," Sudo replied. "A new master is entering the business. Drop me a line if you ever want to hire him. Send those files over quickly, please. I need to know what I'm dealing with. Delay too long and you're useless."

"At least nothing will have changed," Harikien said wistfully, powering down her hologram.

Sudo hummed as Pelin's voice echoed through his hover chair.

"I have Tullius ready for you, sir."

"Patch him through." Sudo took a long swill of coffee as another figure materialized on the panel.

"Friend," growled the weathered turian. With his hood and robes the Council Ambassador appeared to sway gracefully back and forth. The price salarians paid, Sudo mused. The shortest-lived sapient species in Citadel space, he could still remember when he and this young, strong turian were classmates on the Citadel. While Sudo was far past his prime and deteriorating quickly, Tullius was in the golden era of his intellectual capacity and political influence. Because of that, he watched his words. If anyone knew he - or Harikien for that matter - was involved with the salarian known as Sudo, it would be a massive scandal.

"Tullius. Greetings."

"I'm a strained for time here. What do you need?"

"I need nothing," Sudo said. "In fact I don't need more than a moment of your time. I called to tell you that I'm sending someone your way. I'd like you to meet with him. It would seem Markao has passed his training."

Tullius' eyes bulged.

Sudo continued, "shall I send him to you first?"

"Yes. Dirk would have liked that."

"Indeed. Do you have work for him?"

Tullius nodded numbly.

"Well. Good to see you again, old friend," Sudo said, terminating the link. Without hesitation he directed his hoverchair back into his office room where, on his desk, there glowed a new extranet message.

Directly: SuSa

From: [ERROR - NONE]

Subject 32000909

File contains no family

Sudo rubbed his face, grinning despite himself. Whoever this kid was, he didn't exist within the STG intel database. That meant he didn't exist anywhere; he was so far off the grid that not a sliver of his existence was known.

At least it made Sudo's job easy.


End file.
